


One Night in Bangkok

by vernie_klein



Series: Like the Heart Goes [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coda to an episode, Dean doesn't know what to do, Dean is still in denial, Episode: s03e08 A Very Supernatural Christmas, Lots of Smiling, M/M, Mentions of tattoos, Mild spoilers to previous Season 3 eps, Part Nine in a Series, The boys will never learn, and cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 17:51:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4231176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vernie_klein/pseuds/vernie_klein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Part Nine in the Series</i>
</p>
<p>Sam and Dean enjoy Dean's last Christmas.</p>
<p>
  <i>This is the story of Sam and Dean Winchester. Not the story we've seen played out on our television screens a million times, but the story of what happened to get them to where they are today. The story of two brother's souls, so tightly woven together, that neither can be whole.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night in Bangkok

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoy Dean's last Christmas. I know I did. 
> 
> The title is a song by Murray Head. It was written by Benny Andersson, Tim Rice and Björn Ulvaeus. It was written for the musical Chess (which I recommend to watch). 
> 
> Not beta'd, any mistakes are mine. 
> 
> Enjoy.

**~~~XXooXX~~~**

Dean took another sip of his _very spiked_ eggnog. Sam had laid it on him pretty heavy. He figured, _When in Rome_ , or some rot like that. It _was_ his last Christmas, so he should try to enjoy it. He had a toblerone and motor oil. Fuel for him and fuel for his Baby. The Cowboys were on the shitty tv and _winning_ , so all was good. He bumped shoulders with Sam as he flopped down on the couch. He turned and smiled at his brother. Sam smiled back and held up his dixie cup. Dean clinked his cup with Sam’s and shot back the thick drink. Sam reached over the arm of the couch and grabbed the premixed jug of nog. He raised an eyebrow at his brother and Dean nodded. Sam filled the small, clear cup with spiked eggnog, leaving a little room at the top to which he filled the rest of the way up from the fifth of whiskey he pulled out from between the cushions. Dean smiled and nodded again. He could appreciate what his brother was doing for him.

He glanced around the room. There was a beer can wreath above Dean’s bed; he couldn’t believe that Sam found one. The little paper _Merry Christmas_ banner adorned the wall by the small tree Sam had found and decorated with little _tree_ air fresheners. There were still two packages under the tree. He glanced over at his brother and nodded in the direction of the tree.

“What’er the extras for, Sammy?” He slurred his brother’s name slightly. He hadn’t had _that_ much to drink, but the eggnog was quite spiked.

“They’re for if you’re a _good boy_ later.” Sam smirked. “So, you should be a good boy.”

Dean could tell his brother was far into the bottle. He must have been drinking pretty heavily before Dean go back to the room. He turned slightly into Sam’s space and was greeted by a wide, dimpled smile. Dean smiled back, his cheeks straining from all of the movement; and chugged down the rest of his eggnog. He took Sam’s cup from him and set it down on the ring-stained coffee table.

“Sam…” Dean breathed. His voice low and heavy with need.

“Dean- I-” Sam blushed. He placed his hands on Dean’s thighs and rubbed at the denim. “You- I mean-”

“Sammy…” Dean smirked. “Is baby boy _drunk_? Is that why you’re all stammer happy, sweetheart?”

Sam leaned forward and rested his head on Dean’s shoulder. He felt his brother sniff his skin. Dean got goosebumps in his wake. He could feel Sam’s hesitation. Dean brought his hand to the back of Sam’s neck and leaned their foreheads together. He tangled his fingers in Sam’s silky baby hairs. “Sammy.” Dean’s breath mingled with his baby brothers; the scent of whiskey heavy in the space.

“Dean, I wanna-” Sam started.

“Baby boy.” Dean whispered, pulling his brother closer. “We shouldn’t. Not drunk. Should make this ‘scion sober.”

“But, De…” Sam whined as he attempted to chase his brother's lips.

Dean pulled the lower part of his face back. He wanted to give Sam what he was requesting so terribly bad; however, he knew they couldn’t start something like this. Dean pulled his head back the rest of the way and almost cried at this heart shattering whimper Sam made. Dean untangled his fingers from Sam’s baby shampoo hair and sighed.

“Com’mon, Sammy. Let’s get you to bed. I’ll even share.” Ever since Dean had made the Crossroads deal with the Demon, Sam had decided to sleep in a different bed. It hurt Dean to know that Sam was mad at him- _still_ for selling his soul. He knew he had a lot to make up to Sam for. Dean had thought that keeping Sam at arms length would make it better, but after everything that had gone down with Gordon, Dean knew he would do whatever it took. At least today Sam took the day off looking for a way out of the deal. Dean had enjoyed their banter back and forth the day before at the Christmas Store. It was always fun to give into his heart's desire- even if it was only in pretend. 

He had half carried Sam over to the bed furthest from the door and wrestled his shirts and jeans off him. He was careful to not jostle Sam’s hand too much, it couldn’t have felt good to lose a nail and he double checked that the stitches in his forearm had held. He pushed and puled Sam in bed, then striped down to his boxer briefs. Hr climbed in and settled in behind his brother. Dean threw an arm around Sam and pulled him tight to his chest. He placed soft, tiny kisses behind Sam’s ear and inhaled Sam’s scent. He was really going to miss the overwhelming smell of baby shampoo. Sam sighed and snuggled into Dean further. Dean smiled into Sam’s hair and allowed sleep to overtake him.

**~~~XXooXX~~~**

Dean slowly came to; he was hot- furnace hot. He obviously had traded places with Sam overnight and now Sam was draped over Dean’s body, his hand in Dean’s boxer briefs. Dean felt the hard press of Sam’s morning wood against the crack of his ass. He moaned lightly and pushed back. Sam’s hand tightened around his fattening cock and pulled slightly. Dean whimpered as Sam pulled him in closer and stroked and twisted as he jerked Dean off. He cried out as Sam peppered his neck and ear with open mouthed kisses. Dean felt Sam press his erection into Dean’s crack as he rubbed and pushed, getting off on Dean’s body. Dean felt his balls tighten and the electric sizzle of an impending orgasm build in his abdomen.

Sam twisted and thumbed at Dean’s dick’s slit and rutted one last time, crying out his release in Dean’s ear.

“Sam!” Dean yelled as he shot hot, sticky ropes of come across Sam’s hand and out of the top of his briefs onto the light dusting of hair under his navel. His heart pounded in his chest and his breath hitched. He felt like he had just ran a mile in under five minutes being chased by a werewolf. He felt Sam panting in his ear.

“Dude.” Dean chided and turned his head to nuzzle Sam’s face. “It’s like four am.”

“Shut up, jerk.” Sam laughed as he pulled his hand from Dean’s shorts. “I could leave you like this.”

“Fuck that.” Dean made an abortive move to get up. He knew that Sam would go get a cloth.

“Fine, fucker.” Sam pushed off the bed and sauntered into the bathroom. Dean heard the water run and the snick of fabric hitting the floor. Moments later, Dean felt the bed dip and a large hand touch his hip. 

“Dean… Take ‘em off.” Sam whispered as he nipped at his ear lobe. Dean nodded and pulled the offending cloth down to his ankles and kicked them off his feet.

“Roll over, De.” Sam commanded. Dean shivered at the low tone his brother was taking with him. He rolled onto his back and allowed Sam to swipe the wet cloth over his softened dick and stomach. He hissed as the over-sensitive flesh was wiped clean of their previous activities. 

Sam finished and threw the washcloth on the floor. He flung the blanket back over the two of them. Dean sighed and rolled back over to his side, allowing Sam to pull him tight to his chest. He smiled, even knowing that come morning, things would be different- more cold, more- distant. At least he got his one night.

**~~~XXooXX~~~**

Sam woke quietly and crawled from their shared bed. He slipped into the bathroom, took a quick shower and brushed his teeth. Sam slipped on his running shorts and tee and rooted through his bag for his gym shoes. He turned and sat on the unused bed, laced up the sneakers and glanced at his brother.

Dean was still sleeping. He looked peaceful for once, his face lax and posture loose. He was curled around a spare pillow and looked almost angelic and child-like. Sam knew better than to call him either of those things. He grabbed the tiny motel paper pad and penned Dean a note letting him know he had gone for a run and would be back with coffee and breakfast. Sam was going to act like nothing was remiss. He knew Dean would want to tread like nothing had happened this morning, and that was fine by Sam. He walked over to their little tree and extracted the last two presents from underneath. He set those on the bedside table and left the note on top; Dean’s name in _Huge_ block letters. He smoothed the hair off Dean’s forehead and planted a kiss right above his left eye. “Love you, brother.”

Sam walked out the door.

**~~~XXooXX~~~**

Dean woke up gently, the sun warming his face. He stretched in the bed, moaning as the vertebrae in his back popped one after another. Dean opened his eyes and gasped as he saw the two presents Sam promised and a piece of paper on top. Dean pulled the paper off and read Sam’s note about breakfast. He glanced at the clock and realised that Sam had left only five minutes before. This meant he had plenty of time to open the presents and take a shower.

He sat up in bed and crossed his legs underneath him. Dean belatedly realised he was still naked and pulled the covers over his lap. He grabbed the larger of the two presents and tore the wrapping paper off. Dean sighed as the plain cardboard box gave away nothing of the contents inside. He picked at the tape absently and when it wouldn’t come up, he reached under Sam’s pillow for his bowie knife. THe knife made short work of the tape and Dean slowly peeled back the flaps. He pulled off the tissue paper from the box and gasped. Dean gingerly lifted the wood carving. It was the protection symbol they both had tattoos and the words _non timebo mala_ \- I will feel no evil, burned across the center. He flipped the wood carving over and read the inscription. _De, I will always love you. Sammy_

Dean wiped away the solitary tear that streaked down his face. He carefully wrapped the trinket up and put it back in the box. Dean shook his head and picked up the other, smaller package. He delicately removed the paper from the fairly flat package and turned over the wooden frame. Tears flowed unabated from Dean’s eyes as he took in the picture in the frame. His younger face stared back at him- well, him and Sam at a young age. Dean thought the picture was from when they had visited Bobby the summer before Sam’s Senior Year. They were sitting on a Challenger that Dean had helped Bobby rebuild. He smiled at the happy faces that stared back. Dean scrubbed his hand over his face. He put the picture on top of the other box and flopped back on the bed, exasperated. He figured he might as well get his shower out of the way. He was still fairly sticky from the- well, whatever the fuck happened last night.

Dean groaned and popped up from the bed. He sauntered over to the bathroom and pushed back the dingy, flowered shower curtain. He turned the hot tap all the way and the cold a quarter turn. He pulled his toothbrush and Sam’s toothpaste from his kit and hopped in the dinky shower. Dean looked straight on at the showerhead. He wasn’t even that tall. _Poor Sam_ , Dean thought as he brushed his teeth quickly. He bent down to scrub his hair. Dean scrubbed his new body wash over his grubby skin. He shook his head and rolled his eyes. Sam had been the one to choose. Of course he bought the one that smelled like pineapple and coconut. _Fuck_. He should have just used Sam’s Irish Spring. Dean finished and turned off the taps. He stepped from the tub and wrapped a scratchy white towel around his waist. Dean ran his hands through his hair and shook off the excess water. He opened the door, took one step into the room and stopped at the sight in front of him.

Sam was bent over, his tee shirt rucked up slightly in the back; showing off a tiny sliver of tanned, sweaty skin meant for licking. Dean gasped at the display. Sam stood abruptly and with one hand, yanked his sopping tee over his head and chucked it into the laundry bag. Dean smiled at the tattoo on his shoulder that Sam had Greg do. He had a replica of Dean’s M1911 Colt, the words _non timebo mala_ above and the initials DW on the ivory grip. Dean instinctively rubbed his left thigh where he had gotten a copy of Sam’s Taurus PT-92 with the initials SW on the mother of pearl grip. The phrase _quoniam tu mecum es_ \- for thou art with me, tattooed above. Dean loved Sam’s tattoo and felt it appropriate to complete the phrase on himself. 

Dean chuckled at the memory of Greg’s reaction. Not to the fact that they wanted each other’s guns tattooed, but that Dean got his where he kept his .45 when it was in his thigh holster. Sam, of course thought it was a sweet gesture- or at least that’s what he ribbed at Dean when he told Greg where he wanted it placed.

**~~~XXooXX~~~**

Sam stilled, then turned around to face his brother. He took in the small towel wrapped around Dean’s waist and smirked. He waggled his eyebrows at the blond and smacked his lips. 

“Sam.” Dean backed up toward the door.

“Dean.” Sam purred as he stalked closer to the elder Winchester. “What’s wrong?”

“Not- nothing.” Dean stammered. His hand tightened on the towel.

“Good.” Sam sauntered by his brother and squeezed into the space between Dean and the door jamb. “Gunna hop in the shower. Get some of this _sweat_ off me.”

“You do that.” Dean whispered as he took off for his duffel.

Sam smirked and closed the bathroom door.

**Author's Note:**

> **"One Night in Bangkok"**
> 
> _Bangkok, Oriental setting_   
>  _And the city don't know what the city is getting_   
>  _The creme de la creme of the chess world_   
>  _In a show with everything but Yul Brynner_
> 
> _Time flies, doesn't seem a minute_   
>  _Since the Tirolean Spa had the chess boys in it_   
>  _All change, don't you know that when you_   
>  _Play at this level, there's no ordinary venue_
> 
> _It's Iceland or the Philippines_   
>  _Or Hastings or, or this place_
> 
> _One night in Bangkok and the world's your oyster_   
>  _The bars are temples but the pearls ain't free_   
>  _You'll find a God in every golden cloister_   
>  _And if you're lucky then the God's a she_   
>  _I can feel an angel sliding up to me_
> 
> _One town's very like another_   
>  _When your head's down over your pieces, Brother_
> 
> _It's a drag, it's a bore, it's really such a pity_   
>  _To be looking at the board, not looking at the city_
> 
> _Whaddya mean?_   
>  _Ya seen one crowded, polluted, stinking town_
> 
> _Tea girls, warm and sweet, warm, sweet_   
>  _Some are set up in the Somerset Maugham Suite_
> 
> _"Get Thai'd", you're talking to a tourist_   
>  _Whose every move's among the purest_   
>  _I get my kicks above the waistline, sunshine_
> 
> _One night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble_   
>  _Not much between despair and ecstasy_   
>  _One night in Bangkok and the tough guys tumble_   
>  _Can't be too careful with your company_   
>  _I can feel the Devil walking next to me_
> 
> _Siam's gonna be the witness_   
>  _To the ultimate test of cerebral fitness_   
>  _This grips me more than would_   
>  _A muddy old river or Reclining Buddha_
> 
> _But thank God, I'm only watching the game, controlling it_
> 
> _I don't see you guys rating_   
>  _The kind of mate I'm contemplating_   
>  _I'd let you watch, I would invite you_   
>  _But the queens we use would not excite you_
> 
> _So you better go back to your bars, your temples_   
>  _Your massage parlors_
> 
> _One night in Bangkok and the world's your oyster_   
>  _The bars are temples but the pearls ain't free_   
>  _You'll find a God in every golden cloister_   
>  _A little flesh, a little history_   
>  _I can feel an angel slidin' up to me_
> 
> _One night in Bangkok makes a hard man humble_   
>  _Not much between despair and ecstasy_   
>  _One night in Bangkok and the tough guys tumble_   
>  _Can't be too careful with your company_   
>  _I can feel the Devil walking next to me_


End file.
